Has he met his match?
by lil28
Summary: Sherlock and John have been contacted in a text of a certain murderer's next location to kill. When they arrive though, their met with someone with the sarcasm and intelligence of Sherlock, the caring heart of John and the fiery nature of the redhead she is. What will happen between Sherlock and this newcomer? Sherlock/OC. Rated T for possible later chapters. My first story!
1. First Impressions

There he was - the great consulting detective, his blogger standing faithfully beside him. They were waiting, waiting for the girl to walk from the house. They'd been following her for a few days now, and she had started to notice. She'd gotten the better of them this time though, she knew it. She knew they were shocked when she tapped them both on the shoulder and said calmly and casually;

"You looking for me?"

They seemed stunned, the detective and the blogger equally for once, and the detective was certainly also curious as to how she'd managed to get behind him without him knowing.

"Yes, we were," The blogger said. He was an army doctor after all, always the first to recover.

"So detective," She said, looking at the taller. He looked like he had something to say, to prove he was better than her. "Care to deduce me?"

He smiled, and started to talk. "You're very tall, guessing late twenties? And then you've got the same clothes on we saw you in yesterday, and the day before. Conclusion; you can't get home because you're expecting someone. You already knew we were coming, so not worried about us. Possibly a murderer, judging by the fact you are to afraid to go home, the murderer will be someone who knows where you live, probably family or a former friend. You're obviously intelligent, judging as you snuck up on us without us knowing, and the fact you knew the murderer would come to where you live. And you don't have many friends; otherwise you would be staying with them. That rules out the possibility of the murderer being a friend. So, a family member then?"

Animine smiled. "Quite good, quite good. You got it right...except the murderer is not my family. I'm an orphan with no siblings. The murderer is actually someone I know you know...Jim Moriarty."


	2. Reading

**This is my first story on FanFiction, so I'm still getting about learning how to use it and so on. If you like or have any tips, review please, it would make my day! Thankee! **

"...But before discussion on that, my turn I think"

The detective and the good doctor were surprised by what she said, but nodded. They both wanted to hear what she had to say.

"You've been waiting for me to show since you got a text from Moriarty, but you didn't know it was Moriarty, stating the whereabouts of his next kill. It was the army doctor, not you who decided to follow up on it, and I reckon you would've said it was boring, a murderer showing off. But he made you come, and you half came out of curiosity. You've been waiting at east three days, not moving yourself, again the army doctor going to find food. Because you obviously don't eat as much, you wouldn't bother getting food for the both of you. Your name is Sherlock Holmes, you're the younger of two brothers, the eldest being Mycroft Holmes, the British Government and you say so yourself. You don't have a very good relationship with your brother, you hardly talk. Now, the blogger is John Watson, former army doctor, brought back to England after getting a shot to his shoulder. Soon after you got a flat with Sherlock Holmes, and became his partner in crime. You're best friends, and that's saying something as Sherlock is a sociopath genius. He's bored easily and you argue a lot, but you are the best of friends and rely on each other, both loving the sense of danger. Oh, and you have a landlady called Mrs Hudson who you treat as your housekeeper. And lastly, John constantly persists he is not gay, and has a constant string of girlfriends, all of which end badly, often because of Sherlock's deductions"

She finished, and the boys were stunned. Sherlock was a bit jealous. How did she know all of that? He had to ask.

"How did you know?"

She grinned; looking at their stunned faces, and could have laugh.

"I read John's blog"

Sherlock nodded. Oh. So she just read the blog. Sherlock hated that blog, what was

the point in it anyway?

John, on the other hand, nodded, impressed. "She observes and notices, like you,"

He said to Sherlock, and Sherlock said nothing. She spoke up again though.

"My name's Animine, as I already knew you didn't know."

**I plan on my chapters getting longer than this, so bare with me at the moment :)**


	3. A Trio

**I forgot to say, this is definitely before Riechenback. Probably after A Scandal In Belgravia. **

"Nice to meet you then, Animine," John said, and shook the young woman's hand. Sherlock observed her more intently. She had gingery brown hair; people must always think she had quite a temper, perhaps another reason why she didn't have many friends, also a big reason for kids to pick on her in school. Yes, she'd been picked on in school, and that gave her a reluctance to make friends. She had bright green eyes that weren't easily readable, but at the same time portrayed so many emotions it was almost unbelievable. Obvious she was a kind person by the fondness she shook John's hand, but a reluctance he read by the firmness of the shake, and by how quickly she pulled her hand away.

"Sherlock, it would be nice for you to stop deducing me for a minute." She said without looking at him. Sherlock sighed. Very intelligent.

"We better get out of here before Moriarty and/or his henchmen turn up," Animine suggested. John nodded. "Baker Street, right, Sherlock?" He said.

Sherlock glanced at John and then at Animine, "Yes, I suppose so." He replied, and ran out to hail a cab.

The cab drive was long and silent. Animine stared out the window, not trying to make conversation, and Sherlock was doing the same. John was in the middle, looking at the two of them. Once the cab had gotten to Baker Street, Sherlock, John and Animine stepped out, and walked into 221B. Sherlock lead the way to the living room, taking his coat and scarf off as he went. John took off his own coat, hanging it on the hook. Animine had no coat, only her ragged t-shirt and jeans. She didn't mind though.

"Sit." Sherlock said from the living room, and Animine raised her eyebrow. "Why?"

"I need to question you. Sit."

John sat in his usual chair, next to his laptop, and Sherlock was stood, pacing already. She shrugged, and sat down in the chair.

"Full name."  
"Animine Tracy Opalsean"

"Occupation."

"Is this really relevant?" She asked.

"Occupation." Sherlock persisted.

"No job." She said with a shrug.

Sherlock continued to pace. Why would somebody want to kill her? She wasn't special, she was only extremely intelligent…Oh!

"Could you think of a reason for Moriarty to kill you?" John asked.

Animine grinned "I pissed him off."

"You…How..?" John asked.

Sherlock smiled. "Oh, this is brilliant, this is brilliant!" He said.

Animine nodded. "You've got that right."

John frowned. "Wait, what? I don't follow." He looked to Sherlock.

"She's clever, she's very clever John! Moriarty wanted her to help him, with what I'm not sure yet, but she declined…" Animine nodded. "And because she declined, Moriarty decided the best punishment was to have her murdered, I believe."

Animine nodded again. "Yes, he wanted me to help him. And I declined. Moriarty wouldn't tell me what for though, because declining was an obvious option. I knew he was going to kill be then, the fury in his voice…What I don't understand though, is why he told you,"

Sherlock shook his head. "That we'll have to work out."

John looked at them. "Two genius minds under one roof. Don't know how I'll survive." He grinned.

"What, am I staying or something?" Animine asked.

"Well obviously, otherwise Moriarty's men will get you. I don't know what his plan is yet, but we'll work it out eventually." Sherlock said.

John smirked. "Looks like the duo just became a trio."

Animine's eyes widened in shock. "You mean, I can stay with you and solve crimes and everything?"

Sherlock looked at her. "I suppose we could have someone else to help annoy the Yard." He said, and Animine grinned. Sherlock couldn't help but smile in her joy.

John started typing in her blog. "The Trio…" He typed, and Sherlock laughed. "John, that really is a pathetic title. Animine shook her head.

"That's what we are now though, Sherlock. A trio."


	4. The First Case for a New Freak

**A/N I'm so sorry this has taken so long! My laptop broke, with all that my documents, all my other original stories and school work washed down the drain...I'm so sad...ANYWAYS, finally I've got my head round it to update this fic! Again, apologies for your lack of chapters, I'll try to get nice long ones out every weekend...Sorry again!**

It seemed the first test for Animine was the case they got the day after their arrival. She did, as she had proved, the intelligence of Sherlock Holmes, and it seemed obvious that Sherlock didn't want to be outdone; He would have liked to be his usual sarcastic solve-a-case-in-a-minute self, but as soon as they got to the scene of the crime, a small factory in the suburbs of London, the actual events played out.

The body was that of a young woman, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a bloodstained chest where she'd been stabbed, dead about 24 hours according to John. Sherlock went about looking at the body right away, and Animine stood beside him, looking at the body in as much detail as the great detective was. And when he straightened up, Lestrade looked expectantly. "What have you got?" He asked.

Before Sherlock could get a word in, Animine spoke first. "A woman, around the age of 25, dead due to a stab in the chest. She was stabbed more than once, due to the fact blood has soaked her stomach, deep they are too, so the killer wanted her to suffer. Narrows it down to only three people. And due to the engagement ring on her finger, one. A boyfriend, caught her cheating I believe. Killed her and the unborn child, he hit her in the stomach because the child was not his, before stabbing the heart to make her suffer. The name you're looking for is Francis Perry, as on the inscription on the engagement ring." She finished and looked at Sherlock. "Am I right?"

As much as Sherlock hated to admit it, he had to say..."Yes."

John and Lestrade's eyebrows were far up their foreheads. "Amazing."

Anderson, who had only been a few feet away rolled his eyes, and Donovan went as far to say; "Another Freak to send to the asylum."

Animine's head turned to Donovan so fast it cricked. "So, I'm a freak, is that right?"

Sherlock knew what would happen, he calculated it in the milisecond before it did. So he put a hand on Animine's shoulder, and pulled her away as Donovan replied. "Yes, a girl freak, even worse than him."

Even though Sherlock had prepared, he hadn't enough. That girl was strong! John put his hand on her shoulder to though, and they pulled her away from what would've been a big fight. They left Lestrade to deal with Donovon. They retreated back outside, hailing a cab to get home with.

"So, that's who you help, idiots?" Animine said as soon as they were in the cab.

"Yes, idiots." Sherlock replied, and the three of them burst into laughter, laughter that continued all the way home.

**Again, sorry this is so short, but eh, this is all I can do at the moment. But bigger, longer chapters are on the way! I promise!**


	5. The Peace Ball

**Sorry guys for my 'meh meh'ness. My muse is lower than Anderson's IQ. Sorry. But hopefully with this chapter it shall make things better, OK? I would've had it out sooner, but my brother (idiot) deleted half of it on purpose. I was gonna save this one till later, but my muse being low and me wanting to update made this idea a chapter earlier than first expected. This should take place about six months after Animine first met the boys ;) ANYWAYS here we are!**

Nobody had told Animine about Mycroft. The boys hadn't thought it important to mention. So when she got up early one morning to make a cup of tea, she was surprised to find a man sat in the living room of 221B. So surprised in fact she yelled, causing Sherlock and John to come running. When they saw who it was though, they scowled.

"Who is that?" She demanded, folding her arms.

"That, Animine, is unfortunately my brother, Mycroft." Sherlock sighed.

"Yes, I am Sherlock's brother." He said, standing and looking at them.

"He also controls most of the British empire." John added.

"Right. Why is he here?" Animine then asked, a lot more relaxed.

"A case, I should imagine." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Not a case as such. But you would be wise to accept."

* * *

It had been one hell of a plane ride. Sherlock had complained about boredom. John had tried (and failed) to stop him from deducing the whole plane travellers and Animine had tried her hardest to stay sane. They had to take a plane ride to Norway because Mycroft had forced them into taking it, but at the moment, they truly did hate him.

* * *

"Explain."

"We've found that a trained assassin will be at the international ball, motive unknown, but there to kill the English ambassador." He said clearly.

"Why do you need us though, Mycroft? You could send your brainless guards, they'd protect him at this dance. What is the point in it anyway?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock, the dance is a concept of peace, that is to celebrate the end of wars, to discuss politics and for every country to for one night, remember peace and hopefully expand on it to move forth. Various representatives are asked to attend in honour of their country, and it tends to be the highest occasion of importance on the social calender. I ask for you three to go as you can be more inconspicuous, and you will find the assassin before the shooting starts and find his reasons,"

"We'll go." John said, knowing Mycroft would make them go either way. Sherlock shot him a glare, and Animine couldn't help but grin at that.

"Good. Your plane leaves at ten a.m. tomorrow and a car will pick you up at 8 sharp. Goodbye. Oh, and good luck." And with that, Mycroft had left, and they packed their bags with their gladrags.

They touched down in Oslo the following evening. The dance was to take place tomorrow night, so they had the day to prepare. They swiftly checked into a hotel, and luckily, all three slept what was left of the night through. The next morning, they woke early and started to discuss matters.

"Will we all be going as guests?" John asked.

"Yes." Sherlock gave the short answer.

"You do know we'll have to mingle and dance to be inconspicuous." Animine said, and the boys nodded. Well, Sherlock scowled a little but nodded in resigned acknowledgement.

"Guess we'll have our best clothes on." John sighed.

"You'd look good in a suit John." Sherlock said with a shrug.

"Oh, I wonder what you'd look like in one." John said, and Animine smirked at his light joke. John noticed and couldn't help but smile broadly too. Sherlock just shook his head, but the slight smile didn't go unnoticed.

* * *

Three hours before they were supposed to arrive at the ball, the three of them started to get ready, the boys donning their suits, and a room away, Animine readying herself.

"I can't see her in a dress myself." John said as he straightened his shirt.

"She'll have to wear one for the occasion, obviously John." Sherlock replied, slipping on a black-as-night blazer, and helping John putting his on.

"I know that, but she only ever dresses in jeans and t-shirts. She doesn't even imply she has ever worn or likes dresses." He said in return.

"True." Sherlock shrugged. "I hope she does hurry up though, we need to leave soon."

"Good thing I'm a quick dresser then." Animine's voice came from behind them, and when the two men turned to look at her, they were both a little bit shocked at least. She was wearing a long, shimmering black dress with blue stitching going up the left side creating a swirling pattern. Her shoes were simple black pumps. She had on bare amounts of make up; just red lipstick and mascara. The unruly ginger brown hair of hers had been straightened and let down rather than her usual plait or ponytail. "Well stop gawking and lets go!" She said and grinned.

"Let's" Sherlock agreed with a swift nod, and John followed suit. The three friends set off, their mission on their minds.

They got there considerably early, and Sherlock's eyes swept around, deducing the other guests quickly and having an eye on the English target at all times. He'd yet to deduce who was the murderer to be, and therefore John decided they should split up and mingle to stop suspicion creeping into the assassin's mind when he did turn up. Sherlock reluctantly agreed and disappeared into the crowd, John made his way over to chat to some foreign ladies nearby. Animine smiled as she stepped over to a group of Russian and American representatives.

"Hi there, everything OK?" She asked, smiling sweetly. Her natural accent was east London, though she could change it into British etiquette with refined ease.

The men looked at her. It didn't matter what nationality they were; this was a night of peace and evidently being able to flirt was completely fine with them.

"Yes yes, good and fine." The weedy looking American leader said. He was skinny and in a suit, whereas the lead Russian was handsome and fit in a deep blue suit. She smiled again.

"I don't get to go to many dances, you know, work." She said and laughed a little, and the men did too.

"May I ask you to then have a dance with me?" The Russian asked, much, obviously, to the American's annoyance.

"Certainly." Animine replied, and took his hand, as they started to dance with the other mismatch foreigners. It truly was nice for once, to see everybody one night, united and friends together.

Her and the Russian danced for one song, and was just about to start another when a familiar voice was heard in Animine's ear. "May I have the next dance?" It asked, and the Russian nodded.

"Thank you." The Russian said to Animine and kissed her before leaving. Animine then turned to face Sherlock as the next song started.

"Are you jealous or just bored?" She asked as they started to waltz.

"Bored." Sherlock lied, though it was the worst lie he'd ever told. The pair danced well together, better than Animine would have thought he could. Then, for the next dance, Sherlock lead her onto the balcony, where the full moon hung bright in the sky, the only light in a dark night. A slow tune of melody drifted towards them, and they slow danced to it in the moonlight.

"This hasn't turned out as boring as I first anticipated." Sherlock said quietly.

"The trip or the dance?" Animine asked.

"The trip." He answered simply, and they continued to dance.

Once they had finished, not long after, they stood and gazed at each other for a while, with just a small smile on their lips. They leaned forward slightly, when John appeared at the doorway. The pair looked at him, Sherlock a shield of no emotion and Animine betraying nothing.

"I think I know who the assassin is." John stated.

**Part two of this shall be coming soon ;)**


	6. Assassins and Fights

**Part 2, here we go ;)**

* * *

"I think I know who the assassin is." John stated.

"Who?"

"The American leader"

"The skinny one? He attempted to chat me up." Animine said.

Sherlock glanced in at the man. "Yes, definitely."

"But we can't just go in and arrest him! We need to get the gun off him, if he sees us all go up to him, he'll suss us and start shooting. He's a trained assassin murder, yeah?"

"I'll go." Animine offered. "He already knows me, I can ask him to dance or something." She shrugged.

"To dangerous, he could shoot you." Sherlock said.

"It's the most discreet choice, it's happening." She countered.

Sherlock thought a moment before answering. "Fine."

"Don't stare and make it obvious." She warned.

"Of course not."

Animine smiled, and walked back into the main hall. She walked up to the skinny American 'leader' and with a smile on her lips. That was the advantage with being a girl; she was like a secret weapon for the Baker Street Boys. She could alter her appearance so they couldn't see her coming; but this time, she was fine. "Hi there, we were chatting earlier, weren't we?" She said, and the man smiled.

"Yes yes, I remember you, all elegance and beauty."

Animine giggled slightly to keep up the act, unknowing that mere feet away Sherlock was fuming.

"I was wondering, would you care to dance with me? Strong man like you should be able to lead a dance with me." She winked as he took her hand and lead her to the dance floor. She happened to glance at Sherlock on the way, and his face was comparable to that of thunder.

The music started and the pair danced. Animine wondered where he was hiding the weapon, her eyes raking down his body swiftly, not on the front, probably the back. So. It was all a matter of small talk now.

"Come to these sort of event often?" She started.

"No, no, I'm not invited much. I spend more time in the office."

"Well, aren't you clever? I know a sibling of a friend that barely moves from his desk chair." She replied.

"He needs to learn how to have fun then!" The American smirked.

"Indeed he does." Animine nodded, as another flash of music played, faster. Their own dance grew in pace, their feet a blur.

"But miss, you can stop acting now." He said, and Animine looked up at him.

"What?"

"I know you know.

"Know what?"

"I'm not here to dance, lady."

"Oh yes, that I figured. You're here to kill Boris, aren't you?" She said.

"No, no, that was a cleverly designed red herring, miss. The bullets' are meant for you and your friends, Miss Opalsean. Your little detective squad stops far to many crimes, and crimes are what we need. You see, without them, there is no job for me. I'm an assassin for hire you see, and nobody hires me anymore, I've no money for people around the world are to scared that the great London gang will come if it's unsolvable. And then they'll be thrown in prison which is, my friend, so so boring...I like my job too much. And as pretty as you are I must dispose of you. Because I, Miss, am a very selfish man. Now, come along, we must get out of sight of your friends for now, say anything at all and they die first." He said, and danced her away and out of of the main hall before dragging her down to a darker corridor.

"I'd use a knife to make it hurt less than it will, but the sound of the gun will attract your friends, so..." He pulled the gun from his back pocket and aimed it straight at her. She looked right down the barrel of the gun, and having not said anything since before the speech, she hadn't given anything away. But now, she smirked. And laughed.

"What? What's worth laughing at."

"American." Animine said. "American, really? What happened to your accent?"

Indeed, the 'American leader' had lost his false accent in his speech. Evidently, he was as British as Animine herself.

"So? Even if I'm not American, you're still gonna die."

Animine smirked. "Oh, I'm really not."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't do this yourself, someone hired you to. You're an assassin, not a mastermind."

"No, no, I did this entirely myself." He insisted.

"You've not got the brain capacity to have organized all this!" She said with a shrug. "Only a genius could pull a stunt like this, and well, you just ain't one. So who hired you is the question I now ask."

"Not for long, you've got an appointment with death," he retorted.

"So you keep saying. Shoot me then, shoot me now! But even if you kill me and leave me lying here, well, you won't get past John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. 'Coz they'll kill ya for this and then the whole point of the scheme fails, doesn't it, and you die anyway." Animine shrugged.

"I'll shoot Holmes and Watson before they know whats coming." He said self-assuredly.

"But how many bullets have you got, because they sure are good at dodging."

"Not good enough."

"Tell me who hired you to do the job"

"Never."

"Well, 'least I know who it's not."

"Who?"

"Moriarty. He likes Sherlock too much to not kill him in person. So, what, a rival of Moriarty's who wants to murder and make sure that he's never a suspect? He's not a game player evidently. Or is he a she? You could tell me now." Animine said, thinking half-aloud.

"Stop talking, because the conversation is over now."

"Is it rea-" Animine was cut short as she dived to the side to avoid the bullet shot at her. He shot another and she dodged it again, this time only dodging by a hair's breadth. She lunged at the assassin and the gun went flying as they went tumbling. The girl was strong, that was for sure as they wrestled on the ground. Eventually though, the man cam out on top, and pinned her by the throat on the wall.

"You little bitch! Nobody fights me, they die."

"Not this time." A deep voice came from behind him, and the assassin turned to see Sherlock and John standing, their faces that of pure anger.

"Put her down." John said forcibly.

"No." He said, pushing into Animine's windpipe, making her increasingly starved of oxygen. She feebly tried to kick him. The assassin grinned, turning to see the men, but instead being met by an Army Doctor's fist. The force of the punch made him let go, and Animine dropped to the floor, limp. Sherlock then launched himself at the assassin and pounded him into unconsciousness as John rushed to Animine's side.

She wasn't breathing.

"Oh god," John said, thinking quickly, and starting CPR. He'd done it countless times in the army, and just hoped he could revive the quirky female. Sherlock rushed forward and went down on his knees next to John. John placed his hands on her chest and started pumping.

"1,2,3," He muttered, and then placed his mouth on hers and breathed into her.

"1,2,3,"

He did this for what felt like forever, until, finally, thankfully, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

"Thank the lord." John muttered, and Sherlock let out a breath he hadn't know he'd been holding.

Animine looked at the pair of them. "Next time your brother offers us a bodyguard case, decline it." She muttered, and the boys chuckled softly.

* * *

**So, reviews maybe? Thought? I'd be very grateful!**


	7. Aftermath

**Thanks to all my new followers and favouriters! You guys do make me want to keep writing. But if you have any ideas of what the gang can get up to, please drop a review to help my muse! Thanks :D This is just a short chapter to keep you all going while I try and summon up ideas ;)**

* * *

As soon as the three got home from the Peace Ball, it was as if they'd done nothing. Sherlock declared he was bored again. John was tapping in a new entry for his blog, and Animine was reading. They'd all made it back (thanks to John) alive and healthy.

Later that day, Mrs Hudson came up and gave them some of her homemade cookies, which they secretly all loved. She chatted with them for a while before going downstairs.

It was all fine and quiet for a while after that. And perhaps it would've been for the rest of the day. With Sherlock conducting an experiment. John tapping away. Animine reading her book.

For them, everything was at peace. For a few hours.

Until Sherlock started shooting the wall.

* * *

**Like I said, just a little one. Drop me some ideas!**


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